Epilogue
Spam, Six Weeks Later
Rory doesn’t usually let me follow her in here. I figured it must be fun, because she and Nate go in here all the time, a few times a day at least, although I’ve never seen them come in here together.
But honestly, this place is kind of a letdown. There are no treats, and the only toy seems to be a roll of fluffy white paper that Rory won’t let me play with.
Even so, I’m glad to spend time with her. I sit on my haunches, watching her as she sits on a white chair, staring at a stick in her hand.
I hope the stick is a toy. Maybe she’ll throw it.
After a few minutes, she hasn’t moved at all, or even looked at me, so I nudge her knee with my nose.
She doesn’t pet me, though, and she doesn’t throw the stick.
Her eyes fill with tears, her gaze still fixed on the little white stick. “What are we going to do, Spam? This can’t be happening. We’re not ready. I’m not ready.”
I mean, I’m ready. I’m always ready for a game of fetch. I nudge her again, hoping she realizes that I can be ready for both of us if she just tosses the stick.
Instead, though, she stands, taking some of the fluffy white paper for herself—and none for me—and drops the stick into the trash.
I stick my nose in the trash can to retrieve it, but Rory mutters something that sounds like I knew I should have locked you out of the bathroom as she drags me away from what’s rightly mine.
She picks me up and carries me out to the living room, then she disappears back into the special room and shuts the door.
I’ll have to get my stick later. I know exactly which one it is—plain white, with a little plus sign on it.
Continue reading Rory and Nate’s story with Book 3, Not Yours to Carry!
High Lonesome loves a tradition. A parade. A pageant. A reason to gather around and judge you with a smile.
So when Rory Kelley’s dad asks me to step in as the Kelley family’s Mr. Lonesome representative, I do what any man hopelessly in love would do: I agree… and immediately regret it.
I’m a small-town cop, not a pageant guy. My idea of competition is who can grill the best burger, not who can charm a room full of ruthless grandmas armed with clipboards and opinions.
But Rory’s been through enough. She deserves steady. Safe. Me.
And if winning this pageant proves I’m here to stay, then fine—I’ll smile, wave, and survive whatever humiliating “talent portion” they throw at me.
The real problem isn’t the pageant.
It’s Rory.
She’s distracted. Distant in the quiet moments. Like she’s standing beside me… and also a mile away. No matter how many times I ask, she insists she’s okay. And maybe she believes it.
Until life flips the board without warning, and I’m forced to face one terrifying question:
What happens to my forever if Rory’s body—and her heart—can’t carry what she’s been holding back?